Violin
by Bitterfruit93
Summary: John accidently destroys Sherlocks Violin, see what happens yourself, no slash


**I don´t own Sherlock or John, they are Sir Conan Doyles Characters and from the BBC Series "Sherlock"**

**I would be happy to read comments ^^ so enjoy the story!**

John walked down the lively streets of London. He had an long day in the surgery and just wanted to relax at home. Sarah was mad at him, because he had fallen asleep yet again at work, because Sherlock had dragged him out of his bed for some goddamn case. John sighed and tried to ignore the thoughts of his brilliant flatmate, who probably had stored one more dead bodypiece in the fridge. His shoulder hurt, when he thought about trying to convince his flat to get rid of it.

As he walked trough the door of 221 Bakerstreet and went up the 17 stairs to his and Sherlocks flat, he could hear Sherlocks magnificant violin playing. John could recognize the melody of "Memory" from the muscial cats and had to smile. Sometimes Sherlock really remembered him of a cat. He was independent, did what he wanted at any time of the day, destroyed the furniture in the flat and moved in graceful flowing movements. John quielty opened the door to the flat and tried not to disturb the detective. But John had to intake a huge breath. The flat was in chaos! Just yesterday he had cleaned it up, because Mrs. Hudson was pretty mad about the state of the flat. Everywhere papers and books were scattered all over the floor, the skull was lying on the couch, Johns Laptop was lying on the edge of the table nearly falling off and Sherlock, Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room looking totally relaxed, as if it was normal that the whole room was in chaos.

"Sherlock? What the hell?", asked John shocked. The detective ignored him and still played the violin.

"Come on! Please, don´t tell me you were bored and it was an expirement of how to piss off your flatmate." John was pretty mad now and headed to the kitchen. Maybe a tea would help him to comprehend, that he had to clean up the flat again... He tried not to stumble over any books and finally arrived in the kitchen, which looked the same as the living room. John sighed again and went to the cupboard to get his favorite tea Black Spicy Chai. It tasted wonderful with milk and honey and John always felt relaxed after every cup. He put the teakettle on the stove and waited some minutes till it started to whistle.

Sherlock finally abandoned his violin and followed John into the kitchen. He could smell the scent of Johns favorite tea and knew instantly, that John was stressed and tired from his work at the surgery.

"I want some tea too.", he simply said, but John ignored him and walked out of the kitchen to the old leather couch. He sat down without looking first, if there were any papers or books from Sherlock, because he thought it was some kind of punishment for the genius. But as he sat down, there was a sickening sound of wood breaking and he instantly jumped up again, just to see Sherlocks violin broken in two. Sherlock had heard the sound and came running to see, if it was really what he thought that had happened. With a gasp he saw his probably not repairable instrument and a flushed John with a tea cup in his hands. Sherlocks face fell and he couldn´t believe, that the violin his mother had given him was now broken beyond repair.

The violin was precious to him. He loved the sound that it had made, when he moved the bow over the strings. The warm sound and vibrations that always went trough him, had felt good. To him it had felt natural to have it tugged under his chin and plucking the strings when he was bored or wanted to annoy Mycroft. And now? Now it was broken and he probably wouldn´t find a similiar instrument, that would grow so precious to him, because it was not the same as his violin.

"Sherlock, I am...", John started to stutter after several minutes, but Sherlock cut him of midsentence:

"No, John, not now. I think I need to head out... See you later." Sherlock took his coat and his blue scarf and practical fled out of the flat. John could just stare after the man. Sherlock had looked really broken and sad, when he had seen his violin in its current state. John regretted not looking first and didn´t know what to do now. Sherlock would probably come back some time later, but that wouldn´t solve the problem with the violin. John sad down his now cold cup of tea and started to tidy up the flat. First he would clean up the flat and then he would head out with the violin. Maybe someone could repair it, even tough he didn´t think so.

Sherlock was walking trough London and didn´t even know where he was heading, when he ended up in Regents Park near Bakerstreet. There weren´t many people so he was pretty much alone with his gloomy thoughts and sadness. He wasn´t mad at John, it was his own fault, that he had laid down his precious instrument so carelessly. The detective sat down on a abandoned park bench and silently watched the people passing by.

What would he do now, without his violin to occupy him at all times of the day? The instrument had helped him to think more clearly and distracted him when he was bored. But now it was gone and he would have to find a new way to occupy his mind with. Sherlock was certain that he couldn´t replace his broken violin with a new one. After two hours of thinking about what to do, he stood up and headed home to John. He still had to apologize to him about the chaos in the flat and tell him, that he wasn´t mad about the violin. As he arrived at the doorstep to 221 B Bakerstreet, the sad detective was greeted with a fresh cup of tea and a big package lying on the now cleaned couch table. Curious as he was he took a step closer to the mysterious package and tried to deduce what was incide.

"Welcome back, Sherlock. If you want, you can open it, it´s for you.", John greeted him and took a drink from his own cup. Sherlock sat down on the couch and placed the package on his knees. Whatever was inside the package, was pretty light, so it was something that could easily break. Sherlock started to open it and was surprised to hold a violin case in his hands. He looked up at John, who just nodded encouraging and opened the case carfully.

The detective was greeted with the sight of a very slim violin, which looked like somebody had cut out important parts of wood from the frame. It was black and white and looked really modern.

"I am sorry, that I destroyed your violin. I can´t afford to buy you one of those old ones like yours, so I bought an electric violin. I hope you like it?" John was a bit uncertain, sure he had really looked for something like Sherlocks old violin, but he just couldn´t afford one and had to settle on another option. The electrical violin wasn´t cheap either, but at least Sherlock could were headphones, when he played at night and wouldn´t wake him up.

Sherlock tugged the new violin under his chin, after he plugged in the headphones, which normally hung on the bull skull on the wall next to the windows in the living room. He gently placed the bow on the strings and moved it slowly. The detective could hear the violin with his headphones, it sounded like honey, warm and sweet. He carefully put down the violin in its case and stood up.

John looked uncertain at Sherlock. What if Sherlock didn´t like the new violin? But there was no need to worry. Sherlock stepped closer and hugged John tightly.

"Thanks John! The violin is wonderful!", the genius said and John laughed relieved.

"You´re welcome."

Two days later John regretted buying Sherlock the new violin. The detective had bought audio amplifiers and was now terrorizing the whole street day and night. But he still had to chuckle. Some things never change.


End file.
